


State of Imaginary Grace

by beatperfume



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Lots of Feelings Very Little Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/beatperfume
Summary: The weird thing about dating Lara Jean – dating Lara Jeanfor real– is that even though she’s a big ol’ softie romantic who reads bodice rippers and writes handwritten love letters, she’s actually kind of private about it.





	State of Imaginary Grace

**Author's Note:**

> It Happened To Me: I watched To All The Boys I've Loved Before once and one week later I'd watched it four more times and written 5k words of fic.
> 
> Anyway, this is mostly just things I couldn't stop thinking about after the movie. It's pretty much just movie canon with some details from the first book. I haven't read the second or third, so nothing from those.
> 
> Much thanks to [shoemaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster) for constantly validating me and for pre-reading. Thanks to [angelsaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves) for the speedy beta.
> 
> The title is from [I Melt With You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuN6gs0AJls) by Modern English, because if the movie's gonna start it, I'm gonna keep it New Wave. Further soundtrack choices for this fic include [Head Over Heels](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsHiG-43Fzg) by Tears for Fears and [In Between Days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDMDb8unsIA) by The Cure.
> 
> This fic is rated M for some description and discussion of Lara Jean and Peter's physical relationship. The description is not super explicit and I'm not going to pretend it's not part of their relationship that they have to navigate. Like my dude Dr. C would say: Expecting Abstinence Is Idiotic. If it bothers you, you can just hit the back button now.

“Hey, when’s our anniversary?”

Maybe Peter shouldn’t be surprised that Lara Jean brings this up when she sits down for lunch on a Tuesday in late February. The balloons that Matt Tavares got for Gina White to celebrate their three month anniversary are impossible to miss. Both of their Instagrams have been ridiculously sappy and almost unbearable.

“I don’t know,” Peter says. There are so many options. The day he got her letter in the mail? The day they signed the contract? The day Peter realized he wanted their relationship to be real? The ski trip? The day they got together for real? The last one would make the most sense, but feels wrong, because they started so much earlier than that. “When do you want it to be?”

Lara Jean focuses on pulling her plastic bag of carrots out of her lunch bag. Too much focus for such a simple task. 

“Well,” she says, “I guess it would look weird if we didn’t say it was back in September.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter says. He turns towards her so that his shins are pressed against her thigh, brushes her hair behind her ear until she looks at him. “I don’t care if they think it’s weird. It’s not about them, it’s about us, okay?”

Lara Jean looks soft and vulnerable and scared for a second before she smiles and nods.

The weird thing about dating Lara Jean – dating Lara Jean _for real_ – is that even though she’s a big ol’ softie romantic who reads bodice rippers and writes handwritten love letters, she’s actually kind of private about it. She loves a big romantic gesture, but she doesn’t need it to be public.

With Gen, so much of their relationship was about what other people thought about them. Not to say that they didn’t have things just for them, because they did, obviously they did. But Gen was always so constantly aware of how she appeared to other people.

When Peter can see past his anger and his hurt, he feels bad for her.

So it’s been startling for Peter to realize, dating Lara Jean, that he’s the one who needs the occasional reassurance of public acknowledgement. His distress that she wasn’t posting about them on social media had been genuine. The idea that she was ashamed of him, didn’t want Margot to know about him, had been a hot, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach for days.

Even after they got back together, or got together for real, whatever, Lara Jean didn’t post anything about them and it made Peter anxious, and then annoyed at himself for being anxious. He didn’t say anything because she didn’t post anything at all, for weeks, and Peter wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it if she was, understably, avoiding Instagram altogether.

When she finally did start posting again, it was a picture of Peter and Kitty asleep on the Covey’s couch amidst an assortment of pillows and popcorn kernels. It was captioned _A couple of heathens_.

It was from the night they watched Sixteen Candles, and it warmed something in Peter to know that Lara Jean was taking pictures back then, even if she wasn’t posting them.

It’s weird to figure out that he’s a big ol’ softie romantic too.

“Well,” Lara Jean says, pulling Peter back to the present, “I guess for me it would be the night of the ski trip.” Then she blushes, just a little bit, and Peter can’t stop the smile from overtaking his face. He probably looks like a lunatic, but he’s getting used to that.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because that was the first night I thought I wasn’t a complete idiot for falling for you,” Lara Jean says.

“Aw, Covey,” he says, but can’t help leaning forward to anchor his hand in her hair at the base of her skull and press a kiss to her temple.

“Shut up,” she laughs, but doesn’t pull away. He lets his nose gently drift along her cheek, and her jaw, then her neck and underneath her ear. “Anyway,” she says, and she would probably sound perfectly normal to most people, but Peter is not most people and he can hear the hint of breathlessness in her voice, “when would it be for you?”

He doesn’t actually have to think very hard about it. “The night of Greg’s party,” he says into her skin.

“Wait, what?”

Peter pouts when she pulls away, but she doesn’t seem to notice. 

“You literally talked about Gen like, all night that night.”

“I did no–” She gives him a _look_ , and okay, maybe he kinda did. But that’s not what he remembers about that night when he looks back on it. “It was the first night we talked for real, you know?” Lara Jean blinks at him, and then her expression softens and she nods. “And it was the first time I realized I wanted it to not be fake.”

Her mouth makes a little ‘o’ shape, and then her nose crinkles as she smiles. Peter loves Lara Jean’s nose crinkles more than almost anything in the entire world.

“Really?” she says, and leans back into him, lets him put his arm around her shoulders and pull her into his chest.

“Really really,” he says.

“Well,” Lara Jean says, “maybe we need two.”

“Nah,” Peter says. He inhales the coconut scent of her hair. “Let’s go with yours. Something we were both there for.”

She could say that she was actually there that night, at Greg’s party and at the Corner Cafe, but she doesn’t, and Peter floats for a second on being so well understood. Instead she pulls away, but only to turn and kiss him. He tugs her closer when she tries to end it, smiling into her mouth when she lets him.

And if people are watching them, well, Peter doesn’t really care.

* * *

It’s such a relief to be able to talk to Margot again that Lara Jean is almost giddy with it. Every time the Skype chime rings and she can answer it with happiness instead of dread, she feels relief so intense it’s physical.

She hadn’t felt quite real without talking to Margot, all those months. As if Lara Jean didn’t exist unless Margot was reflecting herself back at her. Like, if a tree falls in a forest and Margot doesn’t know about it, did it actually happen to Lara Jean? At the time it had just reinforced the feeling that everything about Lara Jean’s life was fake.

But now everything is delightfully, sometimes scarily real. Including weekly Skype chats with Margot. They get through Margot’s classes, and Lara Jean’s classes, and the weekly pub drama, and Margot gently chiding Lara Jean about a summer internship before Margot looks off the side and then back and says, “So, I saw Peter’s Instagram today.”

“It’s weird that you follow him on Instagram now,” Lara Jean says.

“No it’s not,” Margot says, “and stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not!” Lara Jean says. She definitely is.

“Lara Jean, he said he loves you.”

That’s not exactly what Peter’s post said.

What happened was this: a few days ago he’d caught her unaware, leaning against his car waiting for him to be done in the gym. Her earbuds were in and the hood of her favorite pink peacoat was up against the March wind. Her eyes were closed and her ankles crossed, and the setting sun was reflected in the Jeep’s windows. She doesn’t even remember what she was listening to or why she was smiling like that. Today Peter posted it and said _Grateful for 3 months with this one. Luv u bae_.

It’s a watered down, overly cutesy, for-public-consumption version of the very real sentiment he shares with her in private, the misspellings and ridiculous pet name transforming it into an inside joke that nonetheless gives a little peek into Peter’s actual feelings.

Lara Jean’s instinctive response was to type out “luv u 2, u dork,” and her thumb was halfway to the Post button before she went back and deleted it all.

“I already knew that,” Lara Jean tells Margot now. “I mean … he told me before.”

“I should hope so,” Margot says. “When did this happen?”

Lara Jean fiddles with a pillow on her lap. “When we got together for real. He said he went to Gen’s room the night of the ski trip to tell her they were 100% done, because he, uh. Because he’s in love with me.”

“Lara Jean! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lara Jean shrugs and pulls the pillow tighter to herself. It had felt private, almost, like she’d be betraying Peter by telling Margot, even though Peter clearly didn’t care if people knew. Or maybe she’d wanted it to herself for a little while, a little secret she could put in a hat box and pull out when she needed a boost. _Peter Kavinsky is in love with me_.

“Well,” Margot says when she figures out that Lara Jean won’t be giving her a satisfactory answer, “do you love him back?”

Lara Jean nods, then says, “Yes,” because it feels like something she has to say out loud. “Yes. I love Peter Kavinsky.” She closes her eyes after she says it, feeling very close to fainting again.

When she opens them back up, Margot is looking at her with sympathy, like she understands what an absolutely crazy thing that is and how it kinda makes Lara Jean feel like she has to throw up. It’s Margot, so she probably does.

“Have you told him?” Lara Jean shakes her head. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Lara Jean says, then, “I’m scared.”

“But you know he loves you back,” Margot says.

“What if he changes his mind?” Lara Jean whispers.

“Oh, LJ,” Margot says. “Isn’t almost three months a long time to leave him hanging?”

Lara Jean wants to say that she hasn’t left Peter hanging. It’s not like he doesn’t know she cares about him. She has, in her opinion, been a pretty good girlfriend, even without a contract. And she likes to think that Peter knows already, because she tries to show him when she bakes his favorite kind of cookie, and when she wears his favorite pair of over the knee socks, and when she kisses him in his bedroom and lets him press her down into the pillows.

It turns out that Lara Jean is not very good at making herself vulnerable.

She had denied it at first, because she felt like she _should_ be good at it. Wasn’t she the shy sensitive one? Then she had accepted it, and now she’s trying to be better at it. It doesn’t always work.

Because what if she tells him and then he decides he’d rather go back to Gen after all?

Because sometimes she still gets so caught up in all the ways that Peter could hurt her that she forgets that she can hurt him too. That she has hurt him. Largely by being careless of that fact. She doesn’t want to hurt Peter Kavinsky.

But that doesn’t make it easy, and Lara Jean is sometimes jealous of how easily Peter has opened up to her. Other times she’s in awe of it, and she tries to remind herself that just because Peter makes something look easy doesn’t mean he didn’t work at it.

“I guess,” Lara Jean says to Margot.

“You should tell him,” Margot says. “You’ll feel better getting it off your chest.”

It’s such a Margot thing to say. Margot thinks any number of things will make Lara Jean feel better, from donating her clothes to cleaning her room to eating kale. But in this instance, Lara Jean has to admit that Margot is probably right. She pouts at Margot. “I know.”

That’s when Kitty gets home and jumps on Lara Jean’s bed, disrupting the conversation and almost toppling Lara Jean’s laptop to the floor.

They don’t get back to the subject of Peter at all that afternoon, which is fine with Lara Jean.

That night, after she’s brushed her teeth and responded to Peter’s goodnight text, she pulls the covers over her head and says softly into the warm space around her, “I love you, Peter Kavinsky. I love you. I love you.”

Maybe she won’t be ready tomorrow, but it’s getting easier.

* * *

On a random Thursday afternoon in March Gen pulls Peter into an empty classroom and glares at him.

“So this is how it’s gonna be now? You’re just gonna ignore me?”

“I’m not ignoring you, Gen,” Peter says. (He is, in fact, kind of ignoring her, but he thinks his reasons are good ones.) “I’m just done letting you jerk me around and sabotage my relationship.”

“So what, you’re just throwing away four years because _Lara Jean_ feels threatened?” She looks down, abruptly seeming smaller and a little lost. “I miss talking to you,” she says to the top of her shoes.

“Lara Jean doesn’t feel threatened by you, Gen,” Peter says, although it’s probably not entirely true. 

But the thing is, Peter misses talking to Gen too. For so many years she was his go-to, the person he told almost everything to, and sometimes he misses her so much it’s hard not to call her up just to hear her voice. But then he remembers how she hurt Lara Jean — how she hurt _him_ , and he just feels stupid for missing her.

Because Peter was shocked that she would take and release that video, that she would lie to Lara Jean to break them up, and he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have been, because no one else was. He’s watched her all these years, stood beside her as she insulted and bullied people, tearing them down to build herself up. He would make excuses for her, to himself and to other people: oh she gave up caffeine, she’s had a hard week, her mom was a bitch today. 

She wasn’t always like that. Peter knew in private she could be soft and sad and that she struggled with how she looked and her relationship with her mom and any number of other things.

But now Peter feels ashamed for letting her behavior go. He thought he couldn’t say anything because they were together, but really, he just didn’t want her to turn on him. And maybe him speaking up wouldn’t have made a difference, but maybe if Gen had known Peter didn’t approve, it wouldn’t have gotten so bad. So far out of control.

“And it’s not about Lara Jean,” he says. “It’s about you. It’s about what you did.”

“I didn’t post that video,” Gen says, her arms crossed and holding her own stomach tightly.

Gen has maintained for months that she wasn’t the one to post the video, and maybe it’s even true. But Peter knows that even if she wasn’t the one to post it herself, she was _responsible_ for it. Plus, the pleasure she took in it kind of makes the question of responsibility moot.

“Even if you didn’t, you sure used it to your advantage,” Peter says.

“I just wanted everyone to see that Lara Jean–”

“Lara Jean wasn’t the only one in that video,” Peter shouts. Peter almost never raises his voice at Gen, and she stops talking and gapes at him. But her silence only lasts a few seconds.

“Nobody cares that–”

“I care,” Peter says.

It’s true that Peter hasn’t gotten nasty messages on his locker, or comments on his Instagram calling him a slut. Mostly it’s just been pats on the back and nudges and sometimes really disgusting requests for details. It’s true what Lara Jean says: it’s always worse for the girls.

But it was still him in that video, exposed in a way he didn’t give permission for. He cares less about the skin that was showing and more about how now everyone has seen the way he caresses Lara Jean’s shoulder when she seems overwhelmed, or the way his face looked when she accidentally scratched his back and he didn’t realize he would like it so much.

For a while he felt like he wasn’t allowed to be upset about it because it was so much worse for Lara Jean. But he _was_ upset about it, and he was angry, and if Gen thought he wouldn’t be, then she really didn’t know him as well as he thought she did.

And that made him even more upset because if Gen didn’t know Peter, then what the hell had he been fighting for all that time?

He’d finally broken down and talked to his mom about it, of all people. He and his mom weren’t normally close like that, but this was the one thing he couldn’t talk to Lara Jean about. And his mom had already seen the video because she followed his Instagram to keep tabs on him (and hadn’t that been a fun conversation after it had been posted, and by fun he means incredibly awkward).

After she spent some time telling him it was okay to feel betrayed and violated, Peter had gotten quiet and then said, “I don’t know how to get over the fact that Gen probably did this.”

His mom had looked him square in the face and said, “Sometimes people cross a line. And it doesn’t matter how much you love them, you know you’ll never be able to forgive them. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it just means you have a line.”

“Is that how you feel about Dad?” Peter asked. His mom tried not to talk about their dad at all with him and Owen, and most of the time Peter was grateful for it. But this felt important.

“Yes,” his mom said. “I could have forgiven him for falling in love with someone else, but what he did to you and Owen, that I can never forgive him for.”

And then Peter had gotten uncomfortable and offered to set the table, and his mom let him off the hook. 

But still, Peter figures it isn’t bad, to have a line. It’s an improvement, probably.

“I fucking care, Gen,” he says. “And the fact that you thought I wouldn’t just makes it worse.”

For once Gen seems at a loss for words.

“I miss you too,” Peter says honestly, “but I mostly miss the person I thought you were. The person who did all the things you did? I don’t want to know that person.”

He leaves her there in the classroom, even though there’s a part of him that wants to go back. To hug her and tell her everything’s going to be alright. But he has a line now, and he can’t go back over it.

* * *

At the end of lunch Peter pulls Lara Jean close and tucks a note into her back pocket. Then he leans down and says into her ear, “Maybe don’t read that in front of other people, okay?”

Heat rushes through her, making her knees shaky and her heart beat faster. Her face flushes, but it’s not embarrassment, it’s _want_.

Ever since last week, things have been … a lot.

Peter’s fingers are still hooked into her pocket and he’s breathing into her neck and Lara Jean has to step away before she does something that actually is embarrassing. 

“Sorry,” she says immediately and bites her lip. 

Peter shakes his head. He does that thing he does where he somehow looks up at her from beneath his eyelashes despite being so stupidly tall and smiles a devastating smile. He says, “Nah, I get it.” His fingers are curled around her belt loop now, but he doesn’t try to tug her closer. “I’ll see you after practice?”

“Uh-huh,” Lara Jean says.

“Cool,” Peter says.

This is normally the point where they’d kiss and go to class, but Lara Jean doesn’t think she can kiss Peter and then just … stop kissing Peter.

“Well,” she says, “guess I’d better get to class.” She doesn’t move.

“Guess you better,” Peter says. He doesn’t let go of her.

Just when Lara Jean thinks they might end up standing in the middle of the cafeteria all day, Chris drags her away yelling, “See ya later, PK!” over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Lara Jean says when Peter is safely out of sight.

“All part of the package,” Chris says, then she leans in and says under her breath, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you and Kavinsky did it!”

“Chris!” Lara Jean yells, drawing stares from nearby students. Lara Jean lowers her voice. “We did not.”

“Bull _shit_ ,” Chris says. “You guys have been on a completely different planet all week.”

“Okay, yeah, but not because of that,” Lara Jean says.

“Then what?” Chris asks.

“Um,” Lara Jean says.

This is what happened: Lara Jean went over to Peter’s for dinner, and afterwards they watched a movie with Owen and his mom. Both of them fell asleep on the couch halfway through. Lara Jean waited in Peter’s room while he carried Owen upstairs and then woke his mom.

“They always fall asleep during movies,” he said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure Owen gets it from her.”

Lara Jean doesn’t know what she had planned to say then, because Peter kissed her and she immediately forgot.

Maybe it was knowing that his mom was asleep, or the fact that his bedroom door was closed, or the darkness of his room lit only by his bedside lamp, but they were both less careful than they normally were. Peter’s mouth felt hotter, his tongue more insistent. His hands on her waist, wrapped around her back, sent fire through her.

She ended up straddling his lap, his shirt tossed to the side, his hand underneath her blouse, gently cupping her breast. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt him harden against her, but it was the first time it didn’t make her want to pull away. She moved her hips a little, and Peter ripped his mouth away from her.

“Lara Jean,” he said, his voice high and rough like a whine. He was breathing too hard to properly kiss, so Lara Jean pressed her mouth to his jaw and his neck and up to his ear. He seemed to like it, so she took the lobe between her teeth and gently bit down.

His hips bucked and his hand tightened on her waist. “Ah, _shit_ , Lara Jean.”

Feeling how she affected Peter made her feel powerful and giddy with it, so she moved her hips more deliberately and bit his ear again. Peter was literally trembling in her arms. She drifted her hand up his bare side and over his chest. The nail of her thumb caught on his nipple and he gasped and then came apart beneath her.

After, he hugged her close and kissed her hair over and over again and when he said, “Holy shit, Lara Jean,” his voice was filled with such awe that Lara Jean couldn’t feel embarrassed.

The next day Lara Jean was completely out of it, her mind constantly back in Peter’s bedroom in the dark. And then she started thinking about what could happen then next time they were alone together. It’s been very distracting. And she’s definitely not the only one distracted.

“Define ‘um.’” Chris says, and Lara Jean realizes she’s gotten lost again.

“Um, I’m still a virgin,” Lara Jean says.

Chris raises her eyebrows so high they practically disappear into her hat. “Well, not for long from what I can see.”

“Shut up, we need to get to class.”

Mr. Stone presents a slideshow in American History, and Lara Jean eases Peter’s note out of her pocket and flattens it in her notebook.

_Lara Jean, You know I think those boots are hot. You’re driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about touching you._

She’s immediately grateful that the lights are off and no one can see how red her face is. She should have listened to Peter and read it when she was alone.

But Chris’s questions have pushed her out of her week-long daze somewhat. _Not for long from what I can see._

Does Lara Jean want to have sex with Peter Kavinsky?

She always imagined that she’d wait until she was 18 and had been dating someone for over a year, and that she’d be in college. She’d imagined that some combination of these things would make her feel sufficiently adult, and she would magically know she was ready.

But that was a fantasy as much as her romance novels were. She knows that now. There isn’t some magical sign. 

She can imagine losing her virginity to Peter Kavinsky. It’s scary, but not crazy scary, because she knows that Peter won’t hurt her (even if it might hurt), and that he won’t make her feel cheap or used. She remembers the way he held her in his bedroom that night, and a smile creeps across her face. Yeah, she can imagine losing her virginity to Peter Kavinsky.

The question is, does she want to do it, like, soon?

She retains nothing from the history lecture, or any of her afternoon classes, really.

Peter find her on the bleachers when he’s done with practice, staring into space.

“Hey, you ready to go?” he asks.

That’s the question, isn’t it?

Lara Jean barely says anything the whole way home. When Peter stops in front of her house, she just sits there a minute. Kitty is at rehearsal for the spring play. Her dad will be at the hospital until late.

“Lara Jean,” Peter says when her silence has gone on too long, “are you–”

“Do you want to come inside?” Lara Jean asks.

“Um,” Peter says.

They go inside.

Lara Jean really should have cleaned her room, but it doesn’t matter because they’re kissing the second Lara Jean slams the door behind them. Then somehow they’re on her bed on their sides and her leg is wrapped around Peter’s knee and his hand is sliding up her thigh, warm even through the denim.

With strength she didn’t know she had, Lara Jean manages to pull away from Peter’s mouth and say, “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Wha–” Peter says, seeming mostly confused that they aren’t kissing anymore.

“I mean,” Lara Jean says. She hasn’t felt this mortified since she saw Peter holding that love letter. “I mean … can we um?” She pushes herself up until she’s sitting cross legged and Peter follows her. She takes a deep breath. “I mean, I do want to have sex with you, eventually. Just not…”

“Now?” Peter finishes for her.

“Yeah,” she says. “Is that okay?”

Peter reaches for her hand, tangles their fingers together. “Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you want to?”

“Lara Jean, _of course_ I want to have sex with you.” He says it like it’s so obvious that Lara Jean has to laugh a little. “But not ‘till you’re sure you’re ready. I want you to be really sure, okay?”

“Okay,” Lara Jean says, and some sort of formless anxiety that’s been following her all week disappears and she feels lighter. “I guess after last week everything just felt really…”

“Intense?”

“Yeah. But like, good intense. I liked it, but I’m not sure I want to go much farther. At least, right now.”

Peter nods and cups Lara Jean’s face in his hands. He leans forward and kisses her forehead before leaning his own against hers. “That’s fine,” he says. “But last week was _amazing_ , and if you’re okay with it, I’d like to make you feel good too.” He kisses the tip of her nose. “Or we could just go downstairs and watch Breakfast Club and order a pizza for when Kitty comes home. Whatever you want.”

Lara Jean thinks about it. “Well,” she says, “I _have_ seen Breakfast Club already.”

Peter smiles at her, bright and beautiful. “Damn, Covey,” he says as he pulls her back down to the pillows, “you’re such a player.”

“You love it,” Lara Jean says into his kiss.

“I really really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on [tumblr](http://http://beatperfume.tumblr.com/)|[twitter](https://twitter.com/beatperfume)|[pillowfort](https://pillowfort.io/beatperfume). Come say hi if that's your thing.


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